


Day 30: Recovery

by Doctor_Discord



Category: Video Blogging RPF
Genre: Cannibalism, Dehumanization, Humiliation, Master/Pet, Mental Instability, Murder, Recovery, Whumptober 2019, non-con pet play
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-12
Updated: 2020-04-12
Packaged: 2021-03-02 02:13:30
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,077
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23617306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Doctor_Discord/pseuds/Doctor_Discord
Summary: A continuation of my Whumptober Day 25 storyBim get rescued, but the damage done to his subconscious is worse than the egos first realize.
Relationships: Bim Trimmer/The King of the Squirrels
Comments: 6
Kudos: 57





	Day 30: Recovery

Bim hummed happily, curling tight in his wooden cage around his stuffed toy. He’d been a good boy, and he’d gotten a new toy because of it. A soft puppy plushie. Bim hadn’t put it down since he’d been given it that afternoon.

Bim made a sound almost like a purr as he burrowed into the soft dog bed, much more forgiving than just lying on the wooden floor of the dog cage. Another past reward. He like his rewards. He liked being a good boy. And when he shifted his gaze to stare lovingly at his sleeping Owner in their bed, it was so hard to believe that he’d once fought against them so hard.

His Master (his Owner’s father) had gotten nicer, too. Before Bim had realized it was so much _easier_ to obey, his Master had been…cruel, to say the least. But now, he was the one who liked to spoil Bim, buy him his rewards, sneak him treats off his own plate, to the point where Bim had gotten into the habit of curling up on the floor beside him every morning for breakfast, hoping for a treat. His Master liked to pet Bim, too, he liked to rake his fingers through his hair, and Bim _loved_ it, leaning into the gentle touches with soft, happy sounds.

His Mistress…the mother…she still scared him. She _hadn’t_ been happy when Bim finally broke under their harsh treatment. She still analyzed every aspect of his behavior, searching for wrongdoing, and when she found even the most minuscule of things, she was quick to punish. Bim had been napping peacefully in the fluffy dog bed by the couch, and he’d woken up tied down in the basement, his Mistress’ whip biting into his back, because he’d apparently been talking in his sleep. He wasn’t allowed to talk. He’d made a noise that had – according to her – sounded too much like a ‘thank you’ when he’d been given his plushie, and she’d tried to take it away, but his Owner wouldn’t let her. Bim loved them all the more for it.

Bim purred again, burying his face against his plushie, and the little bell on his collar rang. He didn’t mind. He was happy. He was a good boy. A good pet.

And then he blinked.

One moment, there was nothing, and then Bim blinked, there was a faint popping sound like…like popping bubblegum, and in the next, there was a man, standing in the room. Bim stifled his scream, eyes impossibly wide as he struggled to see the man without his glasses. He could see pink. He watched as the man spun in a circle, watched as he stiffened when he spotted Bim’s cage. Bim froze, pressing himself as far back as he could he manage. Something Bim couldn’t quite see crossed the man’s features, and then he was turning to Bim’s Owner in the bed.

The next thing Bim knew, the man was whipping out a revolver and shooting his Owner point-blank between the eyes just as they were beginning to stir.

Bim screamed.

And then the man was unlocking the cage door and crouching down. Bim pressed himself against the back wall, face buried between his knees and clutching his plushie desperately. He shook, and tried not to cry, but he couldn’t help the hot tears that made their way down his face.

“…Bim? Is that you?”

Bim’s head shot up, curling slightly into a tighter ball. The man was staring at him. Now that he was closer, Bim could make out more of his face, particularly his bright pink mustache. Bim hadn’t been called that name for so long…he’d almost forgotten it…

He stiffened, breath hitching, when the man reached inside, laying a hand on his leg. He looked… _scared_. “My God…what have they done to you?” Bim didn’t move, didn’t reply. The man’s hand was warm. It was…nice. “Bim, please…do…do you remember me? It’s Wilford.”

Something snapped back into place in Bim’s head, and more tears flowed down his face as he nodded shakily. Wilford split in a relieved grin, and withdrew his hand. Bim crawled out of the cage, and – after a moment of hesitation – right into Wilford’s lap, clinging to him desperately in a crushing hug as he shook. He sobbed harder, burying his face in the crook of Wilford’s neck. He still smelled like cotton candy and gunpowder. It was so achingly familiar, and Bim never wanted to lose it again.

Wilford’s hands settled on Bim’s hips, squeezing them, and he rambled as they hugged. “Oh my God, it’s you, it’s really you, we finally found you, _God_ Bim, we’ve been searching for _months_ , but-but-but you’d just _vanished_ , a-a-and something happened to your magic, not even the Host could get a lock on you, and – shhh, it’s okay, you’re okay, it’s okay now, I –”

His hands shifted up, wrapping his arms more firmly around him, and Bim cried out, going completely stiff in Wilford’s arms as the bell on his collar chimed. Wilford froze, and slowly pried Bim off his lap, turning him around. He gasped, and Bim choked, squeezing his plushie tight, as Wilford ghosted a finger over the dozens of laceration scars and newer wounds. “Oh…Bim…”

Bim could feel the shift in Wilford, and he flinched, curling up. It was just like when his Mistress discovered he did something wrong. He didn’t want to be hurt. Wilford loved him, why was he angry, Bim could be good, he was a good boy, he didn’t want to hurt –

So deep in his own head, Bim didn’t notice Wilford undoing the collar until the bell chimed and Bim felt the absence of the familiar pressure. Almost instantly, he felt like he could breathe better, and the result was a harsh coughing fit that left him with watering eyes and his forehead pressed to the floor, breath wheezing. He made a small sound when he felt Wilford pick him up, holding him close to his chest. “Come on, Bim. I’m going to take you _home._ King’s dying to see you again.”

Again, another piece slotted back into place in Bim’s mind at that name. King. The King of the Squirrels. His boyfriend, his sweet, caring, most likely worried _sick_ boyfriend. And Bim broke down again, clinging to Wilford’s shirt and squeezing his eyes shut as Wilford carried him through whatever dimension he used to get around.

“ _Dark! Dr. Iplier! I found him, he’s –”_

_“What?! Where is he, let me see hi – oh my God! Quick, get him up to my office – King! Host, get up here! Bim –”_

The next few days passed in a blur. Bim mainly stayed in Dr. Iplier’s office as he and the Host tended to his wounds. Dr. Iplier had questioned the deep, white abrasion scars on his throat, but Bim had just shrugged and mumbled something about not liking his collar at first. Dr. Iplier and the Host had both paled, but said nothing more about it. All the while, King had adamantly refused to leave his side, pressing kisses to every part of his face he could get to and sobbing out endless ‘I love you’s – at first. Bim quickly got overwhelmed, unused to the attention, unused to the chaos of the manor, unused to _everything_ but pain and being treated like a dog. Dr. Iplier kicked King out, but he still snuck back in often, if only just to hold his hand. 

About a week into his…rescue…Dr. Iplier had deemed it okay to try and reintroduce Bim to the others at breakfast. King had walked him down the stairs, steadying him when he stumbled or tripped – Bim wasn’t exactly used to walking upright anymore. When they’d arrived, Dr. Iplier and King had slipped into their designated spots, and – running on pure habit – Bim had curled up on the floor by the head of the table, where his Master usually sat, hoping for treats as usual. He hardly recognized the fact that it was _Wilford_ , not his Master, that sat in the chair, and he just waited for the anticipated pets and his bowl of food to be placed in front of him.

“Bim…what are you doing?”

Bim blinked up at King, who was staring at him with nothing but concern. The blank, glazed look slowly faded from Bim’s eyes, instead replaced by _fear_. “I…” He glanced at Wilford, who smiled softly at him, then got unsteadily to his feet. He slid uncertainly into the empty chair between King and Eric, blinking owlishly as the others stared at him, silent. He flinched wildly when Silver reached past him to set a plate of pancakes and bacon down in front of him. Bim simply stared at the food as the others began to eat. He…wasn’t sure _how_ to, anymore. But when he saw the others pick up the bacon with their hands, he tentatively did the same, biting into it.

When the rest of his plate was gone in ten seconds, he’d been forced to reveal that the only thing he’d been fed for the past _nine months_ he’d been missing was dog food.

And then he promptly threw up his breakfast all over the kitchen floor, his stomach unused to proper food after so long.

Dr. Iplier had whisked him away back up to his office as Google cleaned up the mess, setting up an IV with the proper nutrients to get Bim’s body back to normal. All the while, Bim _sobbed_ and panicked, rambling on that he was sorry, that he was a good boy, that he didn’t mean to make a mess, _please don’t hurt him_ –

Bim eventually passed out, emotions running high, stress higher, and he’s slept for two days.

They didn’t try a proper meal again for another month, slowly getting Bim’s body used to the idea of real food again. Bim was getting better. His body wasn’t as thin and sickly. He flinched less. He could walk again, _properly_ , without help. He was talking easier, the fear of being dragged away with every word he spoke slowly fading away. He still felt…odd, wearing clothes after nine months going without. His own clothes hurt his back too much. Too pressed, too scratchy, too… _formal_. But King’s t-shirts were big, and soft, and they smelled like King, and Bim could manage those. It was kind of funny…Bim’s shirts used to be big on _King_.

They were heading to dinner, hand in hand, and Bim murmuring softly in response to King’s chatter. They slid into their seats, and Bim jolted in place like was going to get on the floor, but he stopped himself, squeezing King’s hand instead, and King pecked him on the cheek. Google had made dinner. Apparently, it had been Bim’s favorite before he’d been captured. Homemade cheeseburgers, as rare as possible, and just the _smell_ alone had Bim’s mouth _watering_. He could hardly wait for the others to get theirs, digging in the second he was allowed, and the second the borderline _raw_ meat touched his tongue, his pupils were blowing wide, and he’d later be told that he devoured his food in _seconds_ before tearing out the door.

Dark had to spend a week covering up the mess Bim made as he left half-eaten bodies and bloody, gory trails scattered across the city, in a complete feeding frenzy _rampage_ after he’d been left to _starve_ for _months_.

But…Bim was getting better. He could sleep with King in his bed without falling to the urge to sleep on the floor instead. He liked being home. He liked eating real food, he liked snuggling with King, he liked being _warm_. He liked being safe. He…he liked the humanity he was slowly gaining back.

But…

Bim rolled over in King’s arms, making sure he was asleep. King was snoring softly, mouth open, and drooling all over his pillow. Bim smiled, brushing King’s hair from his eyes, before slipping out of his arms, and leaving King’s room, hurrying to his own. He slipped a hand under the pillow of his bed, pulling out the little puppy plushie his Master had give him. He squeezed it, burying his face in it’s soft synthetic fur. It still smelled like his Owner, like his Master, and tears pricked the corners of his eyes.

He missed _home_ , too.

**Author's Note:**

> AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH OH MY GOD I'M SO SORRY I FORGOT TO POST AKJDNASKJDBASDA I WAS DOING EASTER STUFF ALL MORNING AND I JUST FORGOT
> 
> Tumblr: doctordiscord123.tumblr.com


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